Blood of the Skull
by Savy160
Summary: Do you want to talk about it? Jason, please talk to me. What happened? That's one thing Jason refuses to address: his past. But when an old enemy returns and threatens a certain Babybird; he has no choice, but to confront the past. WARNING: This story contains abuse, suggestive themes, self-harm, suggested rape, violence, and language (mainly from Jason).
1. Chapter 1

**Blood of the Skull**

**Do you want to talk about it? Jason, please talk to me. What happened? That's one thing Jason refuses to address: his past. But when an old enemy returns and threatens a certain Babybird; he has no choice, but to confront the past. **

**WARNING: This story contains abuse, suggestive themes, self-harm, suggested rape, violence, and language (mainly from Jason). I do not own Batman or anything related (if I did Damian would not have died). **

**This is my version of Jason Todd before he became Robin. The story takes place in the present as well as flashbacks. This story contains references to Breaking Point, but it will make sense if you haven't read the Breaking Point. **

**Chapter 1**

**Tim's POV**

**Present Day**

I hadn't seen Jason in months. He had been with the Outlaws doing….. Well, I wasn't exactly sure what he was doing. Knowing I wouldn't get a straight answer, I didn't even bother asking. Jason does not like questions. But he was finally home. But Jason was only home for the weekend. We had become somewhat close and honestly, I missed my older brother. Almost a year ago, I was going through a really hard time and I basically tried to kill myself, but Jason had saved me. He even gave me his old costume. Dick thought it would be a good idea for us to have some "brotherly bonding time." But the real reason is that Dick is worried about me. He's probably thinking that I'll tell Jason if something is wrong. Truth is that I've been really busy with the Titans while Dick has been too busy with Damian to notice if anything's even wrong with me. So I haven't really been eating or getting enough sleep; I've just been so busy. So everything was settled I would be spending the weekend with Jay.

*********Break**********

Dick walked me to the door of Jason's new apartment. Jason stood in the doorway, smoking. He was wearing jeans in the beginning of winter. A bright red image of a skull was tattooed on his right upper bicep. Has he always had that?

"Jason, I need to talk to you for a minute." Dick said.

Jason looked over at me. "Up the stairs, take a left." He added, before dropping his cigarette on the ground.

Apparently those were the directions for my temporary bedroom. Just as I entered the apartment, I heard Dick mention my name. Great. They were already talking about me.

Whoa, Jay's apartment is actually kinda nice. Two bedrooms, a decent sized bathroom, kitchen, a sitting room, and a garage. The rooms were modern and nicely furbished. It didn't even smell like alcohol, cigarettes, and beer yet. Plus the apartment had access to the roof and it was secluded. Great for patrol.

I dropped my duffel bag onto my bed and I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Jason stood in my doorframe a few seconds later.

"I'm hungry. You ready to get something to eat?" he asked.

"I guess so. Where are we eating?" I asked.

"We'll walk down a couple of blocks to a diner."

"Sounds good. Um Jay... you are going in a shirt right?"

**********Break**********

Jason was sitting across from me wearing a light under shirt and his leather jacket in a booth in an old rundown diner. It was freezing outside. How is he not cold?

"You know what you want yet?" he asked while keeping eye contact with his menu, returning me from my thoughts.

"Um I'm not really hungry."

His eyes left the menu and narrowed upon my face.

"But I guess I could get a cheeseburger." I said quickly.

"Hey babe!" Jason called out towards our trashy waitress.

She had bleach blonde hair, wore way too much makeup, her uniform was way too tight and revealed cleavage, she was wearing like 6in heels, while smacking gum. She clunked over towards our table and immediately took a seat beside Jason. She pressed her painted scarlet red lips against Jason's and she began attacking his face and hair with her hands. Gross. They came up for air and she immediately turned towards me.

"Who's the kid?" she asked, no longer chewing gum.

"Vickie, this is Tim, my little brother." Jason said before popping the gum, that he now had in his mouth and placing his hand on her ass. Disgusting.

"We'll have a couple of cheeseburgers." Jason said.

She stood up. "I'll put it in for you. You wanna come over tonight?" She asked while kissing his ear.

"Cant."

She stood up and narrowed her eyes at me. "You can't find someone else to babysit?"

"No." Jay answered sternly.

"What about tomorrow?" She asked a little more hopeful.

"I'll think about it."

She smiled, and clunked back into the kitchen.

Jason turned his attention back to me. "What?" he asked.

"How long have you had your tattoo?" I asked wanting to change the subject.

He got this blank look in his eye. "Does it matter?" he growled.

"Not really... Were you drunk? Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." he answered coldly.

At that moment, she returned dropping two chipped plates of grease dripping cheeseburgers with bubbling greasy fries in front of us. Gross.

*********Break**********

I drew my hoodie closer to my face and stuck my hands into my pockets as we stepped outside. I could see my breath. It was freezing. The sun had disappeared into the night sky. Jason didn't even seem to notice. How is he not cold?

We started walking back towards his apartment. I saw him glance at a crumbling building in Crime Alley. I stopped walking. He noticed my lack of footsteps and turned to face me. My attention was on the crumbling building.

"What was that building?" I asked turning to face him.

His face remained expressionless and unreadable. "A building."

I stepped closer to him. "Is that where you lived? Do you want to talk about it? Jason, please talk to me. What happened? I promise I won't judge you."

His eyes narrowed and his tone was icy. "I'm not here to play twenty questions. If I wanted to talk about it, I would have said something. Just drop it."

I avoided the wrath of his piercing eyes and looked back at the dilapidated building. I thought I could see someone standing by the building. It was almost like they were watching us closely.

I turned back towards Jason. "Jay, do you see someone over there?"

His gaze swept Crime Alley, but he didn't focus on anything. He shook his head a moment later. "No, you're probably just imagining things."

I turned my gaze back to the building and I was met only by darkness. "But, I…"

I decided to drop it, he was probably right. We continued walking towards the apartment, leaving Crime Alley behind us and probably memories of Jason's past.

**The next chapter will set the stage for Jason's past! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Jason's POV**

**Present Day**

Who does he think is; asking questions about my past! It's none of his damn business! I need to smoke. I reached in my pocket and pulled the cigarette box out. Damn! I'm out of cigarettes. I guess I could wait until… No I need one now.

"Hey Tim, I'm going-" I called while walking down the stairs.

There was no need to finish my sentence. He had fallen asleep on my couch while watching some science shit. Typical. He did look really tired earlier. Dick did say something about him not getting enough sleep or eating enough. Guess I'll have to talk to him about it later. I bent down and pulled the blanket more securely around him. He does get cold easily.

I picked my jacket up and slid my arms through the sleeves. I opened the door and I was immediately struck by the night air. It is kinda cold out here. I locked the door behind me and stepped out into the darkness.

**********Break***********

**Tim's POV**

I was awakened by the sound of the door colliding with the wall. Could Jay be any quieter? I slowly raised myself and I turned to glare at him. Wait, that's not Jay. Three incredibly huge guys with guns entered the apartment. They were dressed in combat gear, but the weirdest thing was that they wore bright red skull masks, matching Jason's tattoo perfectly.

"Get the kid!" one of them yelled.

Immediately my arms were pinned behind my back and my face was pressed into the couch. I saw my attacker draw a syringe. I don't think so! I'm done playing boy hostage!

I twist myself away from his grip and the syringe enters the couch. My Vans collide with his chest sending him toppling into the lamp and the table beside the couch. Success! A hand seizes my hair and yanks me from the couch and throws me against the wall. He pins me against the wall.

"Ja-" I try screaming for my brother to help me, but I'm cut off by a rag being shoved down my throat. A layer of duck-tape is applied over my mouth to hold the gag in place.

I kick myself off of the wall, driving my attacker to the floor. However, I didn't see the third man. A blow to my temple sends me toppling onto the solid glass coffee table. I give a muffled scream of pain when a large shard of glass penetrates my side. My arms are roughly taped together, as well as my ankles. A blindfold destroys my vision. I ignore the pain in my side and try to struggle with my captors.

"Mmphh!" I scream and thrash around, until I'm pinned against what's left of the coffee table and a syringe enters my neck. I can feel myself being lifted as the darkness consumes me.

**********Break***********

**Jason's POV**

I place a cigarette in my mouth and savor the scent, texture, and flavor as I head for my apartment. I cant help but throw a glance at that old crumbling building on Crime Alley. As I reach my apartment, I stop dead in my tracks. My door is wide open. Tim!

I draw my pistol and cautiously step through the threshold and find the couch is overturned, the lamp is crushed, the side table is broken in half, the TV lay overturned on the floor, but what catches my eye is the shattered coffee table, stained with blood. An empty needle lay beside it.

"Tim?" I call out quietly.

"He's fine. For now." A voice behind me calls out.

I spin around and find an old nightmare leaning leisurely up against my broken door.

"Hello Brother."

I rush the figure, grab his collar, slam him against the wall, and roughly press my gun into his temple.

"You're not my brother!" I growl between clenched teeth.

"That's true. You betrayed us!" he spat at me.

My eyes narrowed. "What do you want? Where's the kid?" I demanded.

I could feel his eyes burning with delight behind the mask. He knew he had the upper hand.

"You care for the boy don't you? It be a shame if something were to happen to him." he threatened.

My hand closed tightly around his neck. "Where is he?" I growled before dropping him to the floor.

He caught his breath and laughed. "The boss wants to talk to you. Midnight."

"That's impossible! He's dead!"

The masked figure answered, "So are you. Miracles happen every day don't they?" he reached into his pocket and handed me a cellphone. Tim's cellphone. "We'll be in touch. Goodbye Jason." He backed towards the door slowly and was swallowed by the darkness.

My baby brother. An old nightmare had taken my baby brother. Even worse, an old dead nightmare had taken Tim.


	3. Chapter 3

**Tim's POV**

"Mmphh!" I was thrown facedown onto a metal table? I could feel the cold metal against my face. I could feel the cold, hard metal beneath my weight. I kicked out against my attackers and I felt my feet collide with someone's stomach. He grunted in pain. My legs were pinned down the next second; someone's knee was pressed deep into my back, restraining me. I felt the tape binding my wrists together separate. As soon as my hands were unbound, each of my wrists were grabbed and I was forced onto my back. My wrists were then strapped securely to the table with tight metal shackles. Then my legs were freed from the tape and confined to the table.

I twisted my body trying to loosen my bonds. My attempts were futile, the shackles seemed to grow tighter and cut deeper into my skin. I began screaming out of frustration beneath the gag. My efforts were met by a sharp slap to my cheek.

"Shut the fuck up!" a voice commanded.

The blindfold was yanked from my eyes. We were in an old abandoned morgue? Oh my God! I'm strapped to a table where they drain dead people's blood! This is creepy! My vision came into focus, resting on three scarlet skulls glowering down at me. The closest one reached down and grabbed my throat, cutting off oxygen from passing to my lungs.

"You've officially pissed me off. And that's something you didn't want to do. Listen up brat; keep your damn mouth shut or else big brother's only going to find a corpse." He threatened, while tightening his grip. "Do we understand?" he growled before slamming my head against the solid table and releasing my neck.

I coughed and gasped for breath beneath the gag.

He seized my hair and forced me to look up at him. "I asked you a question. When I ask you something, you'd better fucking answer the damn question!" he threatened.

"That's enough!" a voice hidden in darkness commanded.

A man about Jason's size and weight stepped forward. He was different from the others. He wore a black mask elaborately etched in scarlet. The other skulls backed away from me quickly and dropped to their knees before him.

He stepped closer to me and his hand went immediately to the large shard of glass protruding from my side. I cringed when his hand my contact with my skin.

He turned back to face his men. "Kentworth, you have displeased me."

The one who had threatened me stood up and approached his master. "But master, I brought you the boy. As you requested."

"I requested him not to be harmed at that particular moment and that he remain unaware of his surroundings."

"But… I… he… forgive me. It was an accident." The masked man pleaded.

"There are no accidents."

The next second, a bullet embedded the skull of the servant; leaving blood, brain matter, and red plastic splattered on the wall of my small, dimly lit prison.

I was horrified. He… he just murdered one of his followers in cold blood. The leader snapped his fingers and the body was quickly dragged away by the other two red skulls. The black and red mask stepped over to the wall splattered with blood and drew a symbol of a skull with the blood of his fallen soldier.

He then turned his attention back to me and took a seat beside me. He reached out with his crimson colored hand and gently caressed my cheek. I could feel the blood dripping from his hand onto my face. A shudder flew up my spine as I cringed away from his touch.

Gently, he said, "Hush now, my pretty baby. Do as you are told and you shall not be harmed… I would hate to punish you. You see, I don't give second chances." He stopped stroking my cheek and paused to push a loose strand of hair from my face. "But surely you knew that already? Surely Jason has told you all about me? Hasn't he?"

I showed no response.

My head soon found itself being slammed into the table, while my cheek was met with a sharp slap. The blade of a knife soon rested in the palm of my right hand. He began to drag the blade across my empty palm. I gave a muffled scream of pain. His lips were soon pressed against the deep cut. My blood! He was drinking my blood! I screamed in horror.

He roughly struck my cheek and wrapped his bloody wrist around my throat; silencing me. He was panting heavily.

"You will do as you are told! You will answer my questions! You will obey me! I asked you a question! Has Jason mentioned me! Answer it!" He screamed through blood stained teeth.

A new masked face entered the room. A woman. Her bleach blonde hair was visible from behind the mask. I could hear the sound of gum popping.

"Forgive the intrusion, Master. It is almost midnight."

"Thank you Vickie." He released my throat and gently planted a bloody kiss on my forehead. "We shall continue our discussion in a little while. And you will answer my questions. Disobey me again and your next cut will be worse. Understand?"

I nodded.

"Good. Vickie, the phone."

She handed him the phone and moved to stand over me.

Vickie? Her eyes looked familiar. Wait; is that our waitress from the diner?

She bent over me and snatched the tape and cloth from my mouth. She clamped her hand down tightly in place of the gag. Her sharp manicured nails dug into my skin. With her free hand she reached towards the shard of glass in my side.

"Hello Jason."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Jason's POV**

Less than a minute was left until midnight. I waited anxiously for the phone to ring. I stared at the overturned furniture and my shattered, blood stained table. Why did I have to leave him alone? Damn cigarettes! Dick is going to kill me if something happens to Tim. Bruce will kill me if he ever gets back from that Batman Inc. shit.

My thoughts were interrupted by the song Radioactive. Tim has got to change his ringtone.

"Hello Jason." My former deceased nightmare greeted from the phone.

"What do you want! Where's the kid! I want to talk to him!" I roared into the phone.

The next moment a bloodcurdling scream filled my ear. It was from Tim.

"Stop! Leave him alone! Let him go!" I cried.

Tim's cries fell silent.

"There, you heard the boy. Are you done giving orders?" he asked calmly.

"Just let him go. He doesn't know anything. He's just a kid." I pleaded.

I heard Tim start screaming again. He was screaming louder now. More pain was being inflicted.

"Are you ready to listen now?" My nightmare asked.

"Yes." I whispered.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes… Master." I spit out the last word slowly and venomously as if it were poison upon my tongue.

"Very good. Jason, my brother, my soldier, my chosen one, and my successor betrayed me. You remember the punishment for treason. Don't you?"

I felt my heart jolt. "I do." I croaked.

"How would you like it if the boy took your punishment? What would you do if I killed him in your place right here, right now?"

"Please don't. He's just a kid. He doesn't know anything. Don't hurt him." I begged.

"You care for the boy, don't you? Tell you what, I'll let him go. If you win my game." He replied shrewdly.

I felt my heart jolt wildly. This is not a game I want to play. This is a game no one can win. There are no winners; only survivors. And death is the only survivor. No one can win against death.

"If I win you'll let him go, but if you win-"

"If I win, then you will die like you should have and I will have no further use for the boy. He is weak. We must destroy our weaknesses, remember? However if you win, the boy goes free. But, either way, we both know how this is going to end." He called out triumphantly.

"What do you want me to do?" I wearily asked.

"I will send you several destinations by using clues. The game and the clues will grow harder after each checkpoint. You will retrieve me the object I desire from one of the locations. Choose my object carefully. I'm sure you'll be able to figure out just what I desire, before you reach the end. Oh, and Jason, this is about us. We need to be alone. No police, no Batman, no Nightwing, no Robin, and no Red Hood. You are to play as yourself. No outside help is allowed. Remember, I'll be watching every move you make. Should you disobey me, I'll kill the boy and take another you care for. Perhaps the youngest child, or the Gypsy, or your father will be taken next. Do you understand my rules?"

"Yes master. I understand." I growled through clenched teeth.

"The game ends at midnight. If you are not there at the end, then I will presume you forfeit. And the boy will take your place. You have a little less than twenty-four hours remaining. Your starting point is at the beginning." He declared before the line went dead.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Jason's POV**

"Your starting point is at the beginning." He declared before the line went dead.

I start at the beginning? No fucking shit! Where else do you start! What kind of a clue is that supposed to be! Damn! The beginning! The beginning of what! The beginning of time, the beginning of this morning, the beginning of my life, the beginning of… my past? No, that can't be right, can it? I guess it wouldn't hurt to look. I have to start somewhere.

**********Break**********

I take a deep breath as I prepare to enter the old crumbling building. My building. My childhood home. Definitely not a happy place.

I step through the warning tape and walk past the signs that read 'Structure Unsafe. Keep Out.' The door and the windows are boarded up. I reach out and start pulling the boards away from my entry point. Dust falls from the boards. Once it's clear, I use my shoulder as leverage against the old rotten door. It gives away easily.

I step inside. Immediately, I'm surrounded by cobwebs, darkness, and dust. Why did I come here? There's nothing here for me. I press on further. This place is empty, I see nothing.

Suddenly, I hear a floorboard creak behind me. A needle plunges into my neck as a slam my opponent's head onto the ground. I can feel the building trembling by the sudden movement. I drive my boot into his throat, pinning him to the floor; my gun pointed at his head. He's coughing under his red mask. Dust is pouring from the rafters.

Without warning, my knees buckle from underneath me. My gun slips from my grip as I fall face first onto the floor beside him. I can't control my body. My sight is blurry. I can't focus on anything. I can feel the drug surging through my body.

The masked man rolls me onto my back. The figure stands over me, laughing. "You surprised us. We didn't expect you here for at least another hour. We thought it would take longer for you to figure the clue out."

"What did you do to me?" I mumble while trying to stay conscious.

He bends down and looms over my ear. "Don't worry, the drug won't kill you. Like it? We took some of Scarecrow's fear toxin and added a little something extra to it. It makes the game more interesting for us. Get ready, brother. You're about to relive your past."

**********Break**********

**Tim's POV**

I can't help but let the tears roll down my face. Each time Jason said something they didn't like, she would slowly pull the shard from my side, making sure it was as painful as possible. They wanted him to hear me scream.

Our waitress is standing over me. She is holding the crimson shard, coated with fragments of my torn flesh and skin. Her master comes and stands beside her.

He bends down and presses a cloth against my wound. Within seconds, the white becomes scarlet. He applies another layer of the cloth, before using medical tape to hold it in place. He then removes the shard from his servant and orders her to leave us. We are alone.

He slowly rotates the shard before pressing it against his tongue. I recoil at the scene before my eyes. He removes the shard from his mouth; it is no longer crimson.

"What do you want with me! Where's my brother!" I scream at him.

He reached back and roughly struck me across my cheek. "Silence! You will not speak, unless spoken to! And you shall address me with respect!"

"What do you want with Jason?" I ask, ignoring his warning.

Before he could strike me, the door opened revealing another one of his followers. How many of them are there?

She walked up to her master and bowed. "Forgive the intrusion, Master, Jason has arrived at the first check point. The drug has been administered successfully."

Check point? Drug? What do they want with Jason? What do they want with me?

"Excellent." He replied while standing.

"What did you do to him!" I demanded.

Both masks stared down at me. The leader turned to his follower and said, "I need to make a few preparations. Keep an eye on the boy. And make sure he stays silent."

She bowed before her leader and strode over to me.

"What do you-"

She shoves the cloth back into my mouth and applies a fresh layer of duck-tape over my lips ending our conversation before it even starts.

**I've gotten a couple of messages wanting to know the ages of Jason and Tim, so Jason is 21 and Tim is 16. I've also gotten a few messages about when Jason's past is actually going to be revealed, part of his past will be revealed in the next chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Jason's POV**

My head is pounding. I'm having trouble breathing. What happened? I open my eyes and sit up slowly. What the hell?

I'm sitting on the worn out floorboards and moldy carpet from my childhood home. What's left of the wallpaper is peeling from the old termite damaged walls. The ceiling is cracked and shows signs of water damage. The only furniture is a worn out couch, infested with fleas. A chipped lamp sits on an old crate from a shipping company. An old, moldy rug is on the floor in front of an old black and white TV, which has three channels.

A blue eyed, raven haired, six year old boy is sitting on the moldy torn carpet playing with an old and damaged toy car that he found near a dumpster. He's skinny from not getting enough to eat. He's dirty. Water and soap are expensive. His clothes are too big, swallowing the boy in fabric. His clothes are old, torn, covered in patches, and stained. A purple bruise covers his left cheek.

A shabbily dressed woman enters the room. She is blonde and pale. Wrinkles crowd her once beautiful face. Bags form under her eyes. Her once white, beautiful smile is replaced by a yellow, rotting grimace. Needle marks coat her arms. She is shaking from the drugs. Self-inflicted knife marks are also present on her once beautiful body; accidentally carved into her flesh do to the effects of the drugs. Bruises are also present, due to an abusive drunken bastard for a husband. Her blue eyes are clouded, but its okay. She is aware of the real world today.

She bends down and kisses the boy on his forehead. He smiles up at her. She returns his smile. The door is thrown open, revealing a 6'2, muscled, drunken monster. Immediately the child and his mother cringe at the sight of her husband, his father, their curse. He can barely walk straight. Yet, he staggers towards her, shoving her against the worn-out wall. Pressing his whiskey lips onto hers, drinking her in. The boy quickly scurried away from his father; wishing he could be invisible or at least that Daddy would be in a good mood.

Without warning, his hand catches her cheek sharply. She gasps at the slap she just received. She trembles before her spouse. His hands then wrap around her once beautiful neck, cutting off her breath. Her eyes roll back into her head. Yet, she makes no attempt to leave him or to fight back or to protect her only child.

The boy is afraid. He is afraid for his mother's life, yet terrified of the monster attempting to take it. He feels he has to do something. He leaves his safe haven of hiding behind the couch and his hands grasp at his father's shirt begging for him to stop. He releases his wife and turns to the boy. The beast's eyes narrow with hatred as he backhands the boy and pitches him on the floor besides his unconscious wife.

I turn my back towards them. I can't watch what happens next. I'm blinded by the tears falling from my eyes. I scream in rage and fury. I'm on the floor again, driving my fists into the floor over and over again. I can't seem to be able to recover breathing properly. I'm making as much noise as I can, trying to block the child's screaming. I can't take it anymore! I draw my weapon and empty round after round into the bastard's head. My efforts are futile; the bullets only pass through his skull. He cannot be touched.

I watch as my six year old self crawls towards the figure of his unconscious mother. Little does he know, she will be dead in ten months.

That was the last time I saw my father. I watch as Willis Todd stands up and walks through the front door for the last time. He will only live for a little longer. He will be murdered by Two-Face.

I turn to look back at the figures lying on the floor. They're gone! They've vanished! I turn as I hear the door being opened and that same dirty, skinny boy slams the door. He's no longer a child though; he's seven years old, a man, forced to grow up too fast.

He slinks against the frame of the door; gasping for breath. He removes the bread and the money he was caught stealing by a cop. He hates the police. The police take one look at him and automatically investigate him. He has never been caught; he's been seen, but never caught. He's too fast for them. He can't afford to be slow. He does what he has to for his mother, for his life, for their survival.

He hides the stolen money in the flea infested, stained, torn upholstery couch. He prays his mother won't find it and buy more needles or drugs. He calls for his mother. He receives no answer. He still thinks that everything's fine. It will be okay. She probably just passed out or something.

He checks the sorry excuse for a bedroom. She's not there. He opens the door to the bathroom. She's on the floor. A spilled bottle of drugs and a package of previously used needles lay beside her. He shakes her shoulder for hours, trying to wake her. She's dead. She's not going to wake up. The boy is afraid. She's never been out this long before. He starts screaming for someone to help him. To help her. An officer currently investigating a crime on Crime Alley hears him screaming. Within a few hours, the government will bury her body and he will be sent to a foster home to continue suffering.

I fall into darkness. This part of the game is over. I'm waking up from this nightmare. I sit up slowly and open my eyes. Immediately, I'm surrounded by cobwebs, darkness, and dust. There is no little boy. There is no overdosed mother. There is no abusive father. I'm alone. The wall in front of me is covered in holes. Bullet holes. Scrunching my eyes, the bullet holes come together to make a word. 'School.'

I glance at my watch; 7:17 AM. I've been here for almost seven and a half hours! I push myself off of the floor. I can't stay here. I know what nightmare he'll make me relive next.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Jason's POV**

'School.' The last clue I had received is 'school.' They weren't talking about a real school. My foster home, my prison, my school for young orphaned criminals. I stood in front of the newly renovated building, narrowing my eyes. The past is only going to get worse, before they finally decide to stop torturing me and kill me; making sure I don't come back again.

A three story, dilapidated prison house with bars on the windows, a nice big yard with an electric fence, a meth lab in the basement, and a sign reading 'Mary Gunn's Foster Home for Orphans' used to be here.

Now the house is being used as a shelter for the homeless; courtesy of the Wayne Foundation. The house has no bars in sight, electric fence has been disabled, the smell of meth is probably gone, and a sign reads 'Wayne Foundation Shelter' has replaced what once was here. But, the memories haven't changed. They will never change. Never.

I stepped onto the newly refurbished porch and slowly turned the door knob. A homeless man was on the floor sitting execution style as a red skull lodged a bullet through his cranium. The repaired flooring was stained crimson from the bodies of twelve innocent lives. Twelve innocent lives that I couldn't save.

The skull turned her attention to me, while another member of their sick and twisted cult closed the door behind me; locking me and the executioner inside.

"We were expecting you." She purred from behind the red plastic.

"Really? I never would have seen that coming!" I growled.

"I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you!" she yelled.

I smirked. "You must be new, let me tell you how this works. I do whatever the hell I want, before deciding whether or not to kill you and how to kill you in the most painful way possible. You don't want to piss me off!"

Soon we're standing within touching distance of each other. Towering over her, I returned the glare I knew she was giving me from beneath her mask.

"You are mistaken; you do not want to piss me off. Remember that we have your weakness." She threatened.

I laughed. "We? There is no 'we.' I don't see the kid here. You have nothing over me, your 'master' might, but he isn't here. You have nothing to stop me from killing you. I have no weakness." I threatened while stepping forward as she stepped back.

Before I could even touch her, a dart pierced my neck. Damn! I should have seen that coming! Without warning, my knees collapsed from underneath me, once again. I fell onto the bloodstained flooring. I lost control of my body. My sight is blurry. I can't focus on anything, but the red. I can feel the drug surging through my body for the second time.

She bends down beside me and whispers, "You should never have betrayed us. Have fun, I know we will."

**Tim's POV**

My eyes followed the masked master of his cult. He'd be scribbling something down one minute, the next he'd be pacing the room. He kept returning to the cabinet and table containing chemicals for embalming people and chemicals of unknown substances; he'd mix a few of the chemicals together and fill syringes and darts with the unknown mixture. He would glance at the clock mounted above me and he would look down at me.

I avoided the mask every time he would glance in my direction. I did not like the way he'd stare at me. It was as if he couldn't wait to dispose of me, yet for some reason he was keeping me alive. He would then approach me and lift my sweater and hoodie in order to check on the towels taped to my wound. He'd occasionally run his hands through my hair and caress my cheek causing me to grow tense and allowing a shiver to run up my spine. He'd tell me that I was 'a pretty baby' and that he could see the reason why Jason would come for me. I wanted to get as far away from him as possible. I'm afraid of him. He could do anything to me; he could do anything to Jason.

Another of his 'followers' entered the room. His people continuously entered the room and left with a syringe and a location of something. Some would enter the room, only to give reports about Jason.

"He has been given the second dosage. Twelve witnesses were present, but they have been removed as a threat." The follower reported.

"Excellent. I believe he shall only require three more, before he starts wishing for death." The black and red mask replied to his slave.

"But, Master, what shall we give him after the fifth dosage?" the servant asked.

The leader turned in my direction. "Give him what he came for." He replied insidiously.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Jason's POV**

My head is pounding. I'm having trouble breathing. What happened? I open my eyes and sit up slowly.

I'm sitting on the old moldy carpet and rotten floorboards of my foster home. Wallpaper is peeling off of the walls. The horrible stench of meth cooking in the basement fills the entire house. The windows are barred to keep the prisoners in. The furniture is old and outdated. Mary Gunn is lying on the couch, shoving a needle into her arm.

I look away in disgust from the bitch. She had flaming red hair, crooked brown teeth, bony hands, late 50's, talons for nails. One of her foster children has 'disappeared.' That's why I was sent to this hellhole; she has an opening.

Her newest 'husband' Percy comes down the stairs. He yells at her to get off the couch and get ready for the newest brat. She doesn't like the way he talks to her. But it's okay he'll soon be her twelfth husband that will 'disappear.'

The door is opened to reveal one of Gotham's finest crooked cops latched onto the arm of a scrawny, shabbily dressed, seven year old raven haired boy with deep blue eyes. Percy slips the cop an envelope while Mary takes the child from him and drags him inside.

The boy is shoved up against the wall. She tells him how everything is going to be from now on. He is to be her slave. He will steal for her. Or else. Out of fear the child agrees to her demands.

A tall muscular sixteen year old appears at the top of the stairs and smiles darkly at the child. Roger, Mary's biological child. He retrieves the child from his mother and drags him up the stairs and into his bedroom for the initiation. Seven other boys of various ages surround the old bed. Six of them smile darkly at the newcomer, their newest 'brother' or victim. The boy closest to the door is a ten year old, brunette with dark brown, almost black eyes. He bites his lip in hesitation at the sight of the newcomer and refuses to meet the younger's eyes.

I watch helplessly as my seven year old self is tossed onto the bed. I watch helplessly as the boy is held down by a couple of teenagers. One of them mercilessly covers the boy's mouth; they have neighbors after all and disturbing them would be rude. Roger approaches the child with a metal ring with the symbol of a skull embedded into the band and a cigarette lighter.

The skull symbol is burned onto his right wrist. I wince at the memory of him searing my flesh, branding me with the mark of death. Rolling up my sleeve, I trace the pattern of where the damned symbol once resided. It's gone now; it disappeared when my flesh regrew from a dip in the Lazarus Pit. But the mark will never fade from my mind.

I resume watching the ceremony. A cigarette is shoved into the child's mouth. Addiction is a hard thing to get over. I don't want to watch it anymore. I can't. I've already lived it once. Once is enough. I turn away and run the room; trying to escape hearing his muffled cries of pain.

I stop abruptly when the ten year old, brunette with dark brown, almost black eyes reaches out to my younger self. He tells the younger boy to stop crying, the pain won't last much longer; crying is a weakness. People feed off of weakness. Survivors are not weak.

Introductions are swapped between the two boys. The brunette says his name is Alec. The two boys will become brothers. They will protect each other, look after each other, share, and steal together.

I run down the stairs, not wanting to watch the reunion. It's too painful. He's downstairs. I come face to face with my younger self. I'm nine years old now. I watch as Mary brings her hand across the boy's face. He didn't bring in enough profit for the day. He must be punished. Roger eagerly asks to punish the child. She willingly hands the boy over.

I follow as the boy is dragged up the stairs and into Roger's room. Alec is upstairs; an expression of sorrow is on the thirteen year old's face as he sees how scared the little boy is.

I leave Alec in the hallway as I pass through the door into Roger's room. I watch helplessly as my younger self is thrown onto the bed. Large hands wrap around the child's neck. The door is suddenly thrown open by Alec.

I watch as Roger turns around, only to have a knife driven into his jugular. One monster is dead, yet another is created. Alec yanks the boy off of the bed and together they run from the house. They hide from the police. They run from everyone. They run from each other. Soon, they will be separated; only to see each other again one more time. For, I will take his life at our reunion.

I fall into darkness. Opening my eyes, I find that I am lying on the bloodstained floor. The twelve bodies of the innocent homeless men and women surround me. I sit up slowly and find that I am covered in blood. None of it my own. Glancing at my watch, written in blood, I find the word 'tires' on my hand. I shakily rise from the floor. I don't want to continue. I'm tired of playing this game. I know what comes next; living on the streets, my reunion, and more abuse. But, the most hurtful memories haven't come yet. I have to become Robin. I have to die. I have to come back. I have to continue my journey into the past.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**Jason's POV**

I slowly exhale as I approach the location of where the best day of my short life took place. A part of me wants to break down and cry as I stand on this sacred location. This is where I met Batman. This is where I gained a father. This is where I became someone. I shiver from the cold and from the memories.

For years, I was raped, attacked, mugged, bloodied, scarred, and hurt by others in this location. I didn't trust anyone. I still don't. This is where I learned how truly dark and evil the world was… Is.

Twice I have lived in this world. Before Batman found me and after he lost me. This is my section of town. I choose to live here, because I know how dark, cruel, twisted, and evil the residents of this section are.

Arresting the animals and putting them back in prison, only to have them escape again is pointless. There is no justice inside of the law. That's why I choose to live outside of it. I take the law into my hands. I choose who I am and no one will tell me otherwise. No one. We protect the innocent. The only way to protect those who cannot protect themselves is to make sure no one can ever hurt them again. I have to choose who lives and who dies.

Suddenly, a skull steps from the shadows and moves towards me. "You're running out of time. You have less than six hours left before the game ends." The mask taunts while removing a syringe.

"That's too bad. I was having so much fun." I reply sarcastically.

He comes closer to me and replies, "Well, you're about to have a lot more fun."

I meet him halfway. "Yeah, well the kid had better be okay." I growl.

"I'm not sure if he'll last that long."

"He'd better. I will kill all of you. Slowly and painfully." I threaten, while rolling my jacket up.

The man's eyes dance with laughter from behind the mask. "He did it to himself. He refused to come quietly. It will be his own fault if he bleeds out before… if you get there in time. Now, are you ready?" he questions while holding the syringe towards my outstretched arm.

"Do I have another choice?" I growl.

**Tim's POV**

I don't feel so good. I feel cold, exhausted, and nauseous. The bleeding has been repressed but it hasn't stopped completely. I close my eyes. Jason, please hurry.

"Tsk, tsk. You're dripping blood onto my clean floor."

I open my eyes to find the black and scarlet skull looming over me. His hand moves towards my side and he pulls my hoodie and sweater back. The two pads taped to my side are overflowing with blood. He pulls the towels from my side and clicks his tongue as a steady stream of crimson flows freely. Our waitress moves into the room and comes to stand beside him.

"I don't think the kid's going to last." She replied, leaning over her master.

"I need him alive. Stop the bleeding. After all, you were a doctor." He replies, as another skull enters.

"Master, he is at the third checkpoint."

"Excellent." The leader replied, while following his servant out.

The waitress retrieved a needle and thread. "Don't worry. This is going to hurt you a lot more than it's going to hurt me." she said ominously.


End file.
